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PETER  PARLEY’S 
SHORT  STORIES 

FOR 

LONG  NIGHTS, 


WITH  ENGRAVINGS. 


BOSTON: 

WILLIAM  D.  TICKNOR. 


1836. 


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Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1834, 
By  S.  G.  Goodrich, 

In  the  Clerk’s  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  Massachusetts. 


PUBLISHER’S  NOTICE. 


The  following  stories  have  been 
published  in  a separate  form ; but 
it  has  been  thought  that  the 
whole,  collected  into  one  volume, 
might  be  an  acceptable  present 
to  our  young  customers.  We 
have  bestowed  upon  them  the  title 
of  “ Short  Stories  for  Long 


4 


publisher’s  notice. 


Nights,”  and  trust  they  may  not 
only  serve  to  wile  away  the  long 
winter  evenings,  but  assist  in 
training  the  juvenile  mind  and 
heart  to  truth,  gentleness,  and 
virtue. 


I 


CONTENTS. 


The  Little  Gardener,  ...  7 

The  Freshet,  or  the  Morning 


Walk, 20 

The  Two  Friends,  ....  37 

The  Bird  Robber,  ...  56 

The  Orphans, 72 

The  Little  Wanderers,  . . 92 

Alice  Gray, 112 


The  Umbrella  and  the  Tiger,  128 


THE  LITTLE  GARDENER. 


11 


food,  and  he  was  therefore  obliged  to 
leave  her. 

He  was  very  young,  and  now,  alas  ! 
he  was  destitute  of  every  thing.  His 
little  straw  hat  was  worn  out,  and  he 
had  nothing  to  wear  upon  his  head. 
His  shoes  were  gone,  and,  though  the 
weather  was  growing  cold,  his  feetwere 
bare.  His  clothes,  too,  were  thin  ; and, 
as  he  went  out  in  the  morning  to  beg 
some  one  to  give  him  food,  he  shivered, 
and  his  teeth  chattered  with  cold. 

He  went  along  in  the  streets  for  some 
time,  and  he  met  a great  many  people; 
but  he  did  not  dare  to  speak  to  them. 
He  was  very  hungry,  for  he  had  eaten 
nothing  the  day  before ; but  he  did  not 


12 


PARLEY’S  STORY  OF 


know  how  to  beg.  He  wandered  about 
for  several  hours,  till  at  length  he  came 
to  a baker’s  shop.  The  windows  were 
filled  with  gingerbread,  and  every  thing 
that  was  good  to  eat.  He  put  his  little 
foot  upon  the  step,  and  was  about  to 
enter  ; but  the  baker  looked  sharply  at 
him,  and  Peter,  finding  his  heart  to 
fail  him,  went  away. 

He  proceeded  in  his  walk  through 
some  of  the  fine  streets,  looking  wist- 
fully at  the  nice  things  he  saw  in  the 
shop  windows ; but  he  had  no  money, 
and  he  felt  that  he  had  no  friends. 

But  he  was  now  starving  with  hun- 
ger, and  he  resolved  to  enter  some 
house  and  ask  for  a piece  of  bread. 


THE  LITTLE  GARDENER. 


13 


At  this  moment  he  came  to  a large 
house  belonging  to  some  rich  man. 
From  the  sidewalk  he  could  look  into 
the  kitchen.  Here  he  perceived  a 
plenty  of  food,  and  as  he  approached 
the  window,  the  steam  of  meat,  and 
the  flavor  of  pies  and  cakes,  met  his 
nose.  Surely,  thought  the  little  boy, 
the  people  here  have  so  many  good 
things,  that  they  will  not  refuse  me  a 
crust  of  bread. 

With  this  idea  he  ventured  timidly 
down  the  steps,  and  entered  the  kitchen. 
He  there  met  a woman,  and  gently 
asked  her  to  give  him  something  to 
eat.  He  told  her  his  sad  story,  and 
prayed  her  to  save  him  from  being 


14 


parley’s  story  of 

starved.  But  the  woman  had  a hard 
heart,  and  would  give  him  nothing. 
In  vain  did  the  little  boy  plead  for  a 
single  crust  of  bread : this  was  refused, 
and  the  woman  sternly  commanded 
him  to  leave  the  room. 

Sad,  and  almost  broken  hearted, 
Peter  left  the  place  ; and  ashamed  now 
to  be  seen  in  the  crowded  streets,  he 
retired  to  a remote  part  of  the  city. 
Here  he  walked  about  in  the  narrow 
lanes  till  evening. 

When  it  was  dark,  he  sat  down  upon 
a stone,  and  gave  himself  up  to  grief. 
He  was  chilled  with  the  cold  night 
wind ; for  his  head  and  feet  were  bare, 
and  his  clothes  were  very  thin. 


THE  LITTLE  GARDENER. 


15 


It  soon  began  to  rain,  and  at  length  it 
fell  in  showers.  Peter  was  wet  to  the 
skin  ; yet  he  had  no  home,  and  there- 
fore he  continued  to  sit  upon  the  stone. 
With  his  head  leaning  upon  his  hand, 
he  remained  for  a long  time  faint  with 
hunger,  and  trembling  with  the  wet 
and  cold.  At  length  he  thought  of 
his  poor  father,  and  of  the  happy  days 
he  had  spent  in  attending  his  flowers. 
He  thought  of  his  mother  too,  whom 
he  remembered  very  well,  though  she 
had  been  dead  two  years. 

And  now,  for  the  first  time,  he  began 
to  weep.  No  one  saw  him,  for  it  was 
very  dark,  and  few  people  passed  along 
the  narrow  street.  His  tears  mingled 


16  parley’s  story  of 

with  the  rain  that  ran  down  his  cheeks, 
and  his  sobs  might  have  been  heard 
amid  the  pattering  of  the  water  that 
fell  from  the  houses. 

But,  alas ! there  was  no  one  to  hear, 
and  the  poor  boy  continued  in  his 
lonely  and  desolate  situation  till  the 
bell  had  rung  for  nine  o’clock. 

About  this  time,  a man  was  passing 
by  the  place  where  Peter  sat.  It  was 
so  dark  that  he  saw  nothing,  but  he 
thought  he  heard  the  voice  of  some 
one  in  distress.  He  stopped  and  lis- 
tened. He  then  distinctly  heard  the 
sobbing  of  a child. 

At  this  moment,  some  person  hap- 
pened to  go  near  the  place  with  a lan- 


THE  LITTLE  GARDENER. 


17 


tern.  The  light  shone  on  a little  boy 
that  was  sitting  alone  upon  a stone. 
The  kind-hearted  man  was  touched 
with  pity,  for  he  saw  that  the  child 
was  weeping,  and  that  he  was  exposed 
to  the  cold  night  air  and  the  drenching 
shower. 

He  approached,  and  asked  the  boy 
why  he  was  there.  Peter  told  him  his 
story,  and  the  good  man  wept  in  sor- 
row. “ But  come  with  me,  my  boy,” 
said  he,  “ come  with  me.  I will  take 
you  to  a warm  room,  and  I will  give 
you  food.  Come  with  me,  and  if  you 
are  a good  boy,  I will  be  your  father, 
and  you  shall  want  for  nothing.” 

Peter  now  took  hold  of  the  man’s 

2 


18  parley’s  story  of 

hand,  and  trotted  along  the  pavement 
with  his  bare  feet.  They  soon  reached 
the  house,  and  Peter  warmed  himself 
by  a good  fire.  He  had  then  a bowl 
of  bread  and  milk,  and  afterwards  was 
provided  with  a warm  bed. 

As  he  lay  down,  he  thanked  that 
good  Being  in  heaven,  who  had  thus 
turned  his  sorrow  into  joy ; and  his 
heart  was  full  of  gratitude  to  the  kind 
man  who  had  brought  him  home  to  his 
house.  After  a night  of  sweet  sleep, 
Peter  waked  up,  and  again  offered  his 
thanks  to  Heaven. 

I need  hardly  tell  you  the  remainder 
of  Peter’s  story.  He  lived  with  the 
man  who  had  brought  him  home,  and, 


THE  LITTLE  GARDENER. 


19 


by  his  good  conduct,  won  the  favor 
of  all  who  knew  him.  When  he  grew 
up,  he  chose  to  be  a gardener ; and,  as 
he  was  very  industrious,  he  laid  up  a 
good  deal  of  money,  and  built  himself 
a small  house.  By  the  side  of  it  was 
a neat  little  garden,  where  he  raised 
vegetables  and  flowers.  These  he 
used  to  sell ; and  thus  he  lived  very 
happily.  And  so,  my  little  reader,  all 
persons,  however  poor,  may  get  to  be 
happy,  if,  like  this  little  Irish  boy,  they 
are  good  and  industrious. 


STORY  OF  THE  FRESHET. 


Margaret  Ray  lived  in  Vermont,  in 
a little  valley  surrounded  by  the  Green 
Mountains.  Her  father  was  dead ; 
but  her  mother,  who  was  a kind,  good 
woman,  took  excellent  care  of  her. 

The  house  in  which  they  dwelt  was 
small,  low  and  brown,  but  it  was  very 
comfortable.  Near  it  was  a fine  or- 
chard of  apple-trees,  and  a garden, 
which  not  only  produced  plenty  of 
kitchen  vegetables,  but  an  abundance 
of  currants,  raspberries,  plums  and 


STORY  OF  THE  FRESHET.  21 

pears.  These  fruits  arrive  at  great 
perfection  in  Vermont,  but  peaches 
do  not  thrive  as  well.  Mrs.  Ray, 
however,  had  a few  peach-trees,  which, 
by  careful  attention,  produced  some 
fine  peaches  almost  every  year. 

Thus,  although  the  house  was  small, 
the  place  where  little  Margaret  lived 
was  extremely  pleasant.  In  summer, 
it  attracted  the  attention  of  every 
stranger  who  passed  by.  Mrs.  Ray  did 
not,  like  some  country  people  I could 
mention,  permit  her  fences  to  tumble 
down,  and  thus  throw  open  the  garden 
and  grounds  to  the  pigs  and  cattle. 
She  did  not  allow  her  geese  to  sit  be- 
fore the  door-yard  gate,  and  thus  ren- 


22 


parley’s  story  of 


der  the  entry  to  the  house  filthy  and 
disagreeable.  She  did  not  make  her 
wood  pile  in  the  street  before  the 
house,  and  collect  around  it  all  the 
broken  sleds,  carts  and  carriages  be- 
longing to  her. 

No ! Mrs.  Ray  was  a wise  woman, 
and  managed  her  affairs  better.  She 
loved  neatness,  and  knew  that  there 
was  a great  deal  of  comfort  in  it. 
She  thought  it  her  duty  to  set  an  ex- 
ample of  neatness  to  all  her  family 
and  the  neighbors  around  her.  Above 
all,  she  wished  that  her  children  should 
be  brought  up  with  a love  of  order 
and  neatness.  She  wished  that  their 
home  might  be  pleasant,  so  that 


THE  FRESHET. 


23 


they  should  love  it.  She  wished  that 
it  should  furnish  a scene  of  comfort 
and  good  order,  which  might  be 
strongly  impressed  upon  their  young 
minds,  so  that  in  after  life  they  should 
remember  and  imitate  it. 

Now,  one  might  suppose  that  Mar- 
garet Ray,  with  such  a home,  and 
such  a mother,  might  have  been  very 
contented  and  happy ; but  1 am  sorry 
to  say  that,  although  she  was  a good 
girl  on  the  whole,  she  was  sometimes 
unreasonable.  I will  tell  you  a story, 
which  will  not  only  make  you  under- 
stand her  character,  but  it  will  also 
teach  you  how  much  better  it  is  for 
children  to  follow  the  advice  of  their 


24 


parley’s  story  of 


parents,  who  are  older  and  wiser  than 
they,  than  to  follow  their  own  fancy. 

One  fine  morning  in  September, 
Margaret  asked  her  mother  to  let  her 
go  and  walk.  “ I think  it  is  going  to 
rain,  Margaret,”  said  Mrs.  Ray,  “ and 
therefore  you  had  better  not  go.” 

“ Oh  ! why  mayn’t  I go  ?”  said  Mar- 
garet, impatiently. 

“ Why  may  you  not  go  ?”  said  her 
mother.  “ I have  just  told  you  the 
reason  ; I think  it  is  going  to  rain,  my 
child.” 

“ But  I don’t  believe  it  is  going  to 
rain,”  said  Margaret,  “and  I don’t 
care  if  it  does  rain.  I wish  I might  do 
as  I like.  I can  never  walk  when  1 
want  to.” 


THE  FRESHET. 


25 


Margaret  then  began  to  look  sour ; 
and,  although  she  was  generally  a 
handsome  little  girl,  she  now  looked 
very  ugly.  Her  mother  spoke  to  her 
kindly  ; but  she  was  still  in  a bad  hu- 
mor. At  length,  perceiving  that  it 
would  soon  begin  to  rain,  Mrs.  Ray 
thought  it  best  to  let  Margaret  have 
her  own  way,  and  take  the  consequence 
of  her  folly  and  obstinacy.  Accord- 
ingly, she  told  her  that,  for  once,  she 
might  do  as  she  liked,  and,  if  she 
chose  to  go  and  walk,  she  was  free 
to  do  so. 

“ But  I want  to  wear  my  new  bon- 
net,” said  Margaret.  “ Very  well,” 
said  her  mother  ; “ you  may  wear  your 


26  parley’s  story  of 

new  bonnet  if  you  choose.  But  I 
warn  you  that  it  will  soon  rain,  and 
you  may  be  sure  that  it  will  be 
spoiled.” 

“ I am  not  afraid  of  the  rain,”  said 
Margaret,  smartly.  “ I will  wear  my 
new  bonnet,  and  I will  take  my  new 
basket,  and  I will  carry  the  kitten, 
and  Worry  shall  go  with  us,  and  we 
will  have  a fine  time  of  it.  It  is  a 
very  fine  morning,  and  I do  not  believe 
it  will  rain ; and  we  will  have  a long 
walk,  and  I shall  like  it  all  the  better 
because  my  mother  lets  me  do  just  as 
I please.” 

And  the  little  girl  was  allowed  to 
have  her  way,  and  accordingly,  putting 


THE  FRESHET. 


27 


on  her  new  straw  hat,  taking  her  bas- 
ket upon  one  arm,  and  her  kitten 
upon  the  other,  with  her  little  dog 
Worry  at  her  side,  she  set  forward. 

The  morning  was  indeed  pleasant ; 
for  although  the  clouds  that  foretold 
the  coming  storm  were  piled  in  dark 
masses  upon  the  tops  of  the  moun- 
tains in  the  south-west,  still  the  eastern 
sky  was  yet  clear,  and  the  sun  shone 
bright  and  warm  upon  the  little  val- 
ley. 

Margaret  was  in  high  spirits;  and 
the  dog  ran,  leaped  and  barked,  as  if 
his  heart  wa3  full  of  joy.  He  plunged 
into  the  bushes,  whenever  he  heard 
the  chirp  of  a squirrel,  chased  the 


28  parley’s  story  of 

birds  across  the  open  fields,  leaped 
into  the  brooks,  scampered  up  and 
down  the  hills,  and  then  came  run- 
ning in  circles  up  to  his  little  mis- 
tress. 

September  is  a beautiful  month,  for 
the  weather  is  mild,  and  the  trees  are 
then  covered  with  many  bright  colors. 
Some  of  them  are  yellow,  some  red, 
some  purple,  and  some  are  still  green. 
Margaret  admired  the  appearance  of 
the  forest,  and,  attracted  by  the  many 
colors  of  the  mountain,  she  followed 
a stream  that  led  up  its  side,  and  was 
soon  in  the  midst  of  the  woods. 

Pleased  with  her  walk,  and  delighted 
with  every  thing  she  saw,  she  went 


THE  FRESHET. 


29 


on  with  rapid  steps.  “How  foolish,” 
thought  she,  “ how  unreasonable  was 
my  mother ! She  thought  it  was  going 
to  rain,  or  she  pretended  to  think  so, 
and  she  wished  to  deprive  me  of  this 
beautiful  walk.  She  wished  to  keep 
me  in  the  house  all  day  like  a bird  in 
a cage,  or  a rat  in  a trap.  But  here 
I am,  out  of  the  reach  of  her  voice  ; 
and  now  that  I am  free,  I will  have  a 
good  ramble  of  it.” 

Thus  thinking,  the  little  girl  went 
rapidly  along  by  the  stream  ; and  for 
nearly  two  hours,  she  continued  to 
wind  gradually  up  the  mountain, 
through  the  narrow  dell  which  had 
been  formed  by  the  rushing  waters. 


SO  parley’s  story  of 

At  length  she  was  a little  fatigued, 
and  sat  down  to  rest  herself. 

But  scarcely  was  she  seated,  when 
the  rain  began  to  fall,  and  the  wind  to 
pour  over  the  forest  with  a hollow 
sound.  She  was  a little  alarmed,  and 
instantly  rose  to  return.  But  the  rain 
increased,  and  the  gust  soon  rose  to  a 
tempest.  The  tall  trees  bowed  their 
heads  and  shook  their  wet  leaves,  and 
the  water  rushed  foaming  down  the 
sides  of  the  hills. 

The  little  river,  which,  a few  min- 
utes before,  was  so  small  that  Marga- 
ret could  leap  across  it,  was  soon 
swelled  to  a torrent,  and  leaped, 
foamed,  and  rushed  in  wild  uproar 
down  its  pathway. 


THE  FRESHET. 


31 


Margaret  was  now  seriously  fright- 
ened, and  began  to  think  that  it  had 
been  better  to  have  taken  her  moth- 
er’s advice,  and  staid  at  home.  She 
was  soon  thoroughly  wet;  and  her 
anxiety  was  not  a little  increased  by 
perceiving  that  her  little  kitten  clung 
to  her  side  with  the  greatest  fright, 
and  that  Worry,  who  was  generally  so 
gay,  now  walked  drooping  and  timid 
at  her  heels. 

But  Margaret  had  a good  deal  of 
courage,  and  though  convinced  of  her 
folly,  and  heart-stricken  on  account 
of  her  disobedience,  she  ran  along 
through  the  woods,  as  fast  as  the 
storm  would  permit.  Several  times, 


32  parley’s  story  of 

she  was  thrown  down  by  the  wind, 
and  once  or  twice  she  slipped  into  the 
edge  of  the  stream ; but  she  kept  on 
her  way,  and  was  near  the  foot  of  the 
mountain  when  a serious  difficulty  oc- 
curred. 

She  had  reached  a place  where  the 
river  crossed  her  path,  and  it  was 
necessary  that  she  should  go  through 
it  in  order  to  get  home.  The  waters 
roared,  dashed  and  tumbled  over  the 
stones,  and  Margaret  stood  some  time 
on  the  bank,  before  she  could  venture 
to  step  into  the  wild  current.  But  the 
wind  swept  by  like  a hurricane,  and 
the  rain  poured  in  showers,  and  she 
could  no  longer  hesitate.  With  a 


THE  FRESHET. 


33 


bold  heart,  and  a sure  foot,  she  sprung 
into  the  water,  and  Worry,  with  a gal- 
lant leap,  followed  the  little  girl’s  ex- 
ample. 

They  had  now  reached  the  middle 
of  the  stream,  when  Margaret  came 
to  a deep  place,  and  sunk  a moment 
beneath  the  water.  She  rose  again, 
however,  and  was  rapidly  borne  down 
the  stream.  Her  bonnet,  loosened 
from  its  string,  was  carried  away  by 
the  whirling  tide ; the  basket  swept 
down  the  stream,  and  the  poor  lit- 
tle kitten,  being  dashed  along  over  the 
roots  and  rocks,  was  soon  drowned. 

Margaret  was  soon  incapable  of  ex- 
ertion* and  was  carried  along  in  a 
3 


34  parley’s  story  of 

senseless  state  by  the  water.  Worry 
was  now  her  only  helper.  Seeing  his 
mistress  in  danger,  his  fear  departed, 
and,  swimming  by  her  side,  he  sought, 
by  every  means  in  his  power,  to  save 
her.  He  caught  hold  of  her  dress, 
and,  swimming  with  all  his  strength, 
endeavored  to  draw  her  to  the  shore. 
At  length,  partly  by  his  efforts,  and 
partly  by  the  stream,  she  was  thrown 
upon  the  bank. 

For  some  time  she  was  senseless ; 
but  at  length  she  partly  recovered, 
and  drew  herself  up  from  the  water, 
to  a place  of  safety.  But  she  was  too 
feeble  to  walk,  and  she  remained  a 
long  time  in  her  helpless  situation. 


THE  FRESHET. 


35 


Her  little  dog  manifested,  by  every 
art  he  could  use,  his  sorrow  and  his 
sympathy.  He  knelt  before  her  ; he 
looked  earnestly  in  her  face  ; he  licked 
her  hands  and  cheeks  ; he  whined  ; he 
barked,  and  did  all  but  say,  “ Courage, 
courage,  my  little  mistress  ; we  shall 
get  home,  and  it  will  all  be  well  yet.” 

Margaret  patted  the  little  dog,  but 
she  could  not  speak.  She  looked  in 
his  face,  and  pointed  towards  home. 
He  seemed  to  understand  her,  and 
set  off  immediately  at  a round  gallop. 

He  had  not  proceeded  far,  before 
he  met  some  people  coming  in  search 
of  the  little  girl.  He  guided  them  to 
the  place  where  she  was  sitting ; and 


36  parley’s  story  of  the  freshet. 

Margaret  was  carried  back  to  her 
mother.  The  new  hat  and  basket 
were  never  found  ; and  I need  hardly 
tell  you  that  she  was  now  cured  of  her 
disobedience ; and  I hope  my  little 
readers  will  remember  that  it  is  much 
better  to  obey  their  parents,  and  fol- 
low their  counsel,  than  have  their 
own  way. 


STORY  OF  THE  TWO  FRIENDS. 


The  dog  is  a very  interesting  crea- 
ture. In  the  first  place,  he  is  a very 
handsome  animal.  He  carries  his 
head  aloft  in  the  air,  with  his  ears  and 
his  tail  erect.  His  eye  is  bright,  and 
possesses  a very  knowing  look.  He 
is  very  swift ; and  some  dogs  will  run 
as  fast  as  a horse.  Beside  all  this,  the 
dog  is  a very  sagacious  animal.  By 
this  I mean  that  he  has  a good  deal 
of  sense,  and  often  shows  himself  in 
this  respect  superior  to  all  other  brutes 


38 


parley’s  story  of 


except  the  elephant.  I will  tell  you 
a little  story  which  will  show  you  how 
much  a dog  sometimes  knows. 

There  was  once  a surgeon  in  Eng- 
land who  came  across  a little  dog  that 
was  lame,  whom  we  will  call  Trip. 
He  pitied  the  poor  dog ; and  so  he 
took  him  home,  and  bandaged  his  leg 
with  great  care.  The  animal,  finding 
himself  more  comfortable,  returned, 
the  next  day,  to  the  surgeon,  who 
again  dressed  the  lame  leg.  Trip 
soon  became  fond  of  his  new  friend, 
and  went  to  his  house  every  day  to 
have  his  leg  taken  care  of,  till  it  got 
quite  well. 

For  several  months  after  this,  the 


THE  TWO  FRIENDS. 


39 


surgeon  saw  no  more  of  his  patient, 
Trip.  But  at  length  the  little  dog 
walked  into  the  surgeon’s  house  with 
a sad  face,  accompanied  by  another 
dog.  On  examining  this  animal,  the 
surgeon  perceived  that  he  had  a bro- 
ken leg  ; and  Trip,  by  jumping  up  to 
him,  and  going  back  to  the  lame  dog, 
by  whining,  and  various  other  signs, 
seemed  to  beg  the  surgeon  to  take 
care  of  his  poor  lame  companion,  as  he 
had  formerly  taken  care  of  him.  The 
surgeon,  who  was  a kind-hearted  man, 
was  delighted  with  the  conduct  of  lit- 
tle Trip  ; so  he  took  care  of  his  lame 
friend,  and  by  and  by,  the  poor  ani- 
mal was  quite  cured. 


40 


parley’s  story  of 


This  is  a very  pleasing  story,  and  I 
believe  it  is  entirely  true.  It  shows 
that  Trip  was  a sensible  dog,  and  had 
a kind  feeling  for  his  companion. 

But  dogs  are  not  only  handsome, 
swift  and  sagacious,  but  they  become 
very  much  attached  to  their  friends. 
I will  tell  you  a story  which  will  show 
the  fondness  of  a dog  for  his  little 
master,  at  the  same  time  that  it  will 
prove  how  capable  this  interesting 
animal  is  of  being  useful. 

I suppose  you  have  all  heard  of  the 
state  of  Maine.  In  that  state  there 
is  a large  river  called  Penobscot. 
Near  the  borders  of  this  river,  there 
once  lived  a man  named  Boyd,  who 
had  a little  son  called  Harry. 


THE  TWO  FRIENDS. 


41 


The  house  of  Mr.  Boyd,  though 
it  was  very  handsome  and  pleasant, 
was  surrounded  by  woods,  which  ex- 
tended over  the  hills  and  valleys  for 
many  miles.  There  was  no  other 
house  near  ; but  little  Harry  was  ac- 
customed to  walk  among  the  woods 
without  fear.  He  was  always  attended 
in  his  walks  by  a favorite  dog  called 
Trusty. 

This  animal  well  deserved  his  name, 
for  he  always  kept  by  the  side  of  his 
little  master,  and  seemed  to  take  as 
much  care  of  him,  as  if  he  was  his 
own  brother.  The  animal  was  large, 
black  and  shaggy,  and  was  of  that  kind 
called  the  Newfoundland  dog.  He 


42  parley’s  story  of 

was  very  good-natured,  and  exceed- 
ingly playful. 

Sometimes  little  Harry  and  his  dog 
would  stop  in  the  woods,  when  the 
weather  was  warm,  beneath  a shady 
tree,  and  frolic  together  for  half  an 
hour.  When  they  were  tired,  they 
would  lie  down,  and  Harry  would  lay 
his  head  upon  the  soft  skin  of  his 
companion,  and  go  to  sleep.  After  a 
little  while,  they  would  get  up,  and, 
having  finished  their  ramble,  would 
return  home. 

Thus  the  two  friends  spent  their 
time  very  happily  together.  But,  at 
length,  Harry  having  arrived  at  the 
age  of  about  thirteen  years,  a sad  ac- 


THE  TWO  FRIENDS. 


43 


cident  befell  him,  of  which  I will  give 
you  an  account.  One  fine  summer 
morning,  the  two  friends  set  out  to- 
gether, for  the  purpose  of  taking  a 
walk.  They  proceeded  for  some 
time  along  the  banks  of  a river. 

Trusty,  like  all  Newfoundland  dogs, 
being  fond  of  the  water,  frequently 
jumped  into  the  stream,  and  seemed 
to  enjoy  swimming  about  very  much. 
Harry  encouraged  him  by  throwing 
sticks  far  out  into  the  river,  which 
Trusty  would  pursue,  and  bring  them 
back  to  the  shore  in  his  mouth. 

Having  amused  themselves  for  some 
time  in  this  way,  Harry  and  his  dog 
left  the  river,  and  climbed  up  a high 


44  parley’s  story  of 

hill,  covered  with  trees.  On  reaching 
the  top,  they  ascended  a large  rock. 
From  the  top  of  this,  Harry  saw  at  a 
distance  a small  lake,  which  he  had 
never  observed  before.  It  looked  very 
blue  and  beautiful,  and  he  was  very 
anxious  to  visit  it. 

As  it  did  not  appear  to  be  very  far, 
he  went  down  from  the  rock,  and 
set  out  for  the  lake.  He  soon  came 
to  a deep  valley  between  two  hills. 
This  was  thickly  covered  with  trees, 
between  which  a bright  little  river 
was  flowing.  Harry  supposed  that 
this  river  would  lead  him  to  the  lake  ; 
and  therefore  he  determined  to  keep 
along  its  side  until  he  should  reach  it. 


THE  TWO  FRIENDS. 


45 


The  weather  was  warm,  and  noth- 
ing could  be  more  beautiful  than  the 
little  stream,  and  the  woody  vale 
through  which  it  ran.  The  leaves  of 
the  trees  were  so  thick  as  hardly 
to  permit  the  sun  to  shine  through 
them. 

Attracted  by  the  cool  shade,  there 
were  many  birds  among  the  trees, 
whose  wild  songs  filled  the  valley  with 
music.  Harry  would  often  stop  to 
listen ; and  sometimes,  charmed  by  one 
of  these  songsters,  he  would  sit  down 
for  several  minutes,  and,  commanding 
Trusty  to  be  quite  still,  would  wait  till 
the  bird  had  ceased  his  song. 

He  would  then  set  forward,  and 


46  parley’s  story  of 

proceed  on  his  way,  until  some  beau- 
tiful bright  flower,  that  bloomed  by 
the  water,  or  some  foaming  fall  of  the 
stream,  attracted  his  attention,  and  in- 
duced him  to  pause. 

His  mind  being  full  of  pleasure,  the 
little  rambler  did  not,  for  a long  time, 
observe  the  great  distance  to  which 
he  had  gone.  At  length,  however,  he 
began  to  be  a little  anxious,  and  won- 
dered that  he  did  not  come  to  the 
lake.  This  induced  him  to  walk 
faster ; and  although  the  trees  became 
thicker,  and  the  scene  more  wild,  he 
continued  for  some  time  to  proceed 
with  greater  rapidity. 

Becoming  more  and  more  impatient, 


THE  TWO  FRIENDS. 


47 


he  hurried  on,  until  at  length  he  began 
to  observe,  that  the  day  was  drawing 
toward  a close.  Perceiving  by  this 
that  he  had  been  many  hours  from 
home,  and  knowing  that  he  must  be 
at  a great  distance,  he  became  afraid, 
that,  if  he  went  back  by  the  windings 
of  the  stream,  he  should  not  reach 
home  before  dark. 

He  therefore  determined  to  cross 
the  woods  by  what  he  supposed  a 
shorter  route.  Unfortunately,  he  took 
the  wrong  direction,  and  went  in  an 
opposite  course  to  that  in  which  his 
home  lay.  Being  a good  deal  alarmed, 
he  proceeded,  making  his  way  be- 
tween the  trees  and  over  the  stones 
as  rapidly  as  possible. 


48  parley’s  story  of 

He  soon  perceived  that  the  shad- 
ows of  evening  began  to  fall  around 
him ; the  songs  of  the  birds  began  to 
cease ; and  one  after  another,  they 
stopped,  till  only  a single  thrush  was 
heard  at  a distance.  The  squirrels, 
whose  merry  sounds  had  frequently 
met  his  ears,  were  heard  no  more  ; and 
as  the  darkness  thickened  beneath  the 
trees,  an  almost  death-like  stillness 
crept  over  the  forest. 

Harry,  for  a moment,  paused  and 
listened : not  a sound  was  heard.  The 
single  thrush  had  closed  his  song,  and 
all  nature  seemed  hushed  in  repose. 

While  the  little  boy  was  standing 
in  this  situation,  his  dog  came  before 


THE  TWO  FRIENDS. 


49 


him,  and,  dropping  his  ears  and  tail  as 
if  dejected  and  in  sorrow,  he  looked 
wistfully  in  the  face  of  his  little  mas- 
ter. Harry,  touched  by  the  dog’s 
look  of  distress,  and  saddened  by  his 
own  fears,  burst  into  tears.  At  the 
same  instant,  Trusty  set  up  a howl, 
which  made  the  forest  ring. 

The  echoes  were  carried  from  hill 
to  hill ; and  Harry,  hoping  that  this 
cry  of  distress  would  be  heard,  wait- 
ed some  time,  in  anxious  expectation 
that  it  would  be  answered.  But  the 
far  off  echoes  died  away,  the  drowsy 
stillness  settled  again  over  the  scene, 
and  nothing  was  heard  but  the  sighing 
of  the  night  wind  among  the  trees. 

4 


50  parley’s  story  of 

Almost  in  despair,  the  little  wan- 
derer again  set  forward,  and  for  some 
time  was  occupied  in  climbing  a 
steep  hill.  At  length  he  reached  the 
top,  and  began  to  descend.  But  he 
was  obliged  to  be  extremely  cautious, 
for  it  was  now  very  dark,  and  his 
way  lay  among  steep  rocks,  fallen 
trees,  and  projecting  roots. 

The  situation  of  the  poor  boy  was 
not  only  distressing,  but  perilous.  He 
was  approaching  a precipice ; and, 
although  he  was  very  near,  the  dark- 
ness hid  it  from  his  view.  Trusty 
seemed  to  be  aware  of  the  danger  ; 
for  he  placed  himself  before  his  mas- 
ter, and  howled,  with  a voice  so  pier- 


THE  TWO  FRIENDS. 


51 


cing,  that  the  forest  seemed  startled 
at  the  sound. 

But  the  caution  of  the  faithful  dog 
was  of  no  avail.  Harry’s  foot  slipped  ; 
and,  being  borne  forward,  both  he  and 
Trusty  were  plunged  headlong  down 
the  cliff.  The  distance  was  not  great, 
but  Harry  was  stunned,  and  Trusty 
had  one  of  his  fore  feet  seriously  in- 
jured. 

Careless  of  his  own  suffering,  how- 
ever, the  poor  dog  seemed  only  anx- 
ious for  his  master.  Raising  his  voice 
to  its  utmost  pitch,  he  made  the  for- 
est ring  with  a long,  wailing  howl, 
piteously  expressive  of  his  anxiety. 
He  then  paused,  lifted  his  ears,  to 


52  parley’s  story  of 

catch  the  slightest  sound,  and  gazed 
in  every  direction  with  intense  ear- 
nestness. 

Again  and  again  he  howled  ; but  no 
one  came  to  his  assistance.  After 
waiting  some  time,  he  sprang  suddenly 
from  the  side  of  his  master,  and 
bounded  away  with  the  greatest  speed. 
Over  rock,  and  root,  and  stream,  he 
flew,  as  if  he  were  in  a smooth  path. 
Straight  he  went  over  hill  and  valley, 
until  he  had  gone  to  the  distance  of 
more  than  two  miles. 

At  length  he  reached  a low  hut, 
made  of  upright  poles,  and  covered 
with  sods.  There  was  no  light  within, 
and  the  door,  consisting  of  a large 


THE  TWO  FRIENDS. 


53 


piece  of  bark,  was  closed.  But  the 
impatient  dog,  panting  with  heat  and 
fatigue,  began  to  scratch  violently  at 
the  door,  at  the  same  time  barking 
and  howling  with  all  his  might. 

In  a moment,  he  heard  a sound 
within  ; and  soon,  a tall  Indian, 
with  a burning  torch  in  his  hand, 
came  to  the  door.  He  seemed  to 
know  the  dog,  and  his  countenance 
expressed  great  surprise.  Trusty 
fawned  upon  him,  wailed,  ran  a little 
way  toward  the  spot  where  his  mas- 
ter was  lying,  and  then  came  back  to 
the  Indian,  with  a beseeching  air. 

The  Indian  knew  these  signs  well, 
and  perceiving  that  his  assistance  was 


54 


parley’s  story  of 


wanted,  he  seized  his  bow  and  arrows, 
stuck  a long  knife  in  his  belt,  and  set 
out  with  the  dog.  The  poor  animal 
seemed  wild  with  impatience  and  de- 
light. He  bounded  onward  before 
the  Indian  for  a little  distance,  and 
then  came  back,  seeming,  by  every 
sign  and  token  of  which  he  was  mas- 
ter, to  urge  him  forward. 

The  Indian  was  generous  and  kind- 
hearted  ; and,  knowing  the  forest  well, 
he  strode  forward  amid  the  darkness 
with  a rapid  step.  He  strained  up 
the  sides  of  the  hills  ; and,  in  descend- 
ing, he  leaped  from  rock  to  rock,  like 
a squirrel.  It  was  less  than  half  an 
hour  after  the  departure  of  the  faith- 


THE  TWO  FRIENDS. 


55 


ful  dog,  that  the  Indian  was  conducted 
to  the  spot  where  poor  Harry  lay. 

He  had  just  recovered  from  the 
shock  of  the  fall,  and  was  partly  sit- 
ting up.  The  Indian  knew  him,  even 
in  the  darkness,  and  as  he  loved  both 
him  and  his  father,  he  took  him  gently 
in  his  arms,  and  carried  him  to  his 
hut. 

The  poor  boy  was  much  bruised, 
but  the  Indian’s  wife  took  excellent 
care  of  him  ; and  early  the  next  morn- 
ing, the  Indian,  placing  him  carefully 
on  his  shoulders,  carried  him  to  his 
father’s  house,  which  was  no  less  than 
seven  miles  distant. 


STORY  OF  ROBERT  SEABOY. 


There  are  no  objects  in  nature 
more  interesting  than  birds.  They 
please  us  more  than  flowers,  for  they 
have  life.  We  love  them  better  than 
the  trees,  or  shrubs,  or  plants,  for  they 
delight  us  with  their  merry  songs. 
We  love  them  better  than  the  four- 
footed  beasts,  that  move  along  the 
ground,  for  they  spread  their  wings, 
and  glide  through  the  air  like  arrows. 

But  although  we  love  the  birds  so 
well,  it  is  remarkable  that  many  pea- 


STORY  OF  ROBERT  SEABOY.  57 

pie  take  delight  in  destroying  them. 
It  is  no  doubt  right  to  shoot  birds 
when  we  need  them  for  food  ; and  we 
may  kill  those  that  are  mischievous. 
But  why  should  we  do  any  injury  to 
the  innocent  blue  birds,  or  the  happy 
little  sparrows,  or  the  cheerful  robins, 
or  any  other  of  those  friendly  and 
confiding  little  creatures,  that  build 
their  nests  in  our  orchards,  and  sing 
their  songs  around  our  houses  ? 

I do  not  believe  that  any  of  my 
little  friends  are  either  wicked  or 
cruel ; but  they  are  perhaps  thought- 
less. During  the  last  summer,  I was 
walking  in  a narrow  lane,  on  a beauti- 
ful afternoon.  Nothing  could  be  more 


58  parley’s  story  of 

delightful  than  the  air,  and  nothing 
more  beautiful  than  the  green  fields. 
The  insects  were  dancing  in  the  sun- 
beams ; the  bees  were  sipping  honey 
from  the  flowers ; and  the  birds,  all 
around,  were  busily  engaged  in  feeding 
their  young  ones. 

I pursued  my  walk  for  a long  time  ; 
my  mind  being  occupied  with  the 
idea  that  every  thing  seemed  full  of 
happiness  and  beauty.  But,  at  length, 
my  ears  were  filled  with  the  cries  of 
birds  from  a neighboring  orchard.  1 
heard  the  low  wail  of  the  blue  bird, 
the  anxious  note  of  the  chipping  bird, 
the  squalling  of  the  cat  bird,  and  the 
short,  hurried  tones  of  the  robin. 


ROBERT  SEABOY. 


59 


“ What,”  thought  I,  “ can  be  the 
occasion  of  all  this  uproar  ? Has 
some  snake  stolen  the  young  birds 
from  the  nest  ? or  has  a hawk  come 
down  among  them,  and  torn  them  to 
pieces  with  his  claws  ?” 

While  I was  thus  wondering  why 
the  poor  birds  seemed  in  such  great 
distress,  I chanced  to  peep  into  the 
orchard  ; and  then  I discovered  the 
cause.  Three  or  four  boys  were 
there  ; and  one  of  them  had  a gun. 
With  this  he  had  been  shooting  among 
the  birds,  and  had  killed  a great  num- 
ber. These  were  strung  together 
upon  a stick ; and  I could  perceive 
among  them  robins,  sparrows,  linnets, 


60  parley’s  story  of 

blue  birds,  and  many  other  kinds. 
Some  of  them  were  young  birds,  but 
most  of  them  were  old  ones.  It  was 
the  season  when  the  nests  were  full 
of  young  ones  ; and  the  parents  being 
killed,  their  little  innocent  offspring 
were  left  to  perish  of  hunger. 

I was  sorry  to  discover  that  these 
little  boys  were  some  of  my  young 
friends,  of  whom  I had  hoped  better 
things.  I called  them  to  me,  and 
begged  them  not  to  slay  the  inno- 
cent birds.  I described  the  young 
ones  in  the  nest,  whose  parents  they 
had  killed.  I described  them  waiting 
for  the  return  of  those  upon  whom 
they  depended  for  life.  I described 


ROBERT  SEABOY. 


61 


them  as  opening  their  mouths,  and 
crying  piteously  for  food.  I described 
them  as  wasting  by  degrees,  until,  at 
length,  after  two  or  three  days  of  suf- 
fering, they  would  die. 

The  little  boys  listened  to  me  at- 
tentively, and  tears  of  sorrow  came 
down  their  cheeks.  They  looked  at 
the  little  birds  they  had  killed ; and 
oh ! how  ardently  did  they  wish  they 
could  give  back  to  the  little  feath- 
ered forms  the  life  they  had  de- 
stroyed ! But  this  wish  was  vain ; and 
they  could  only  resolve,  in  future, 
never  wantonly  to  take  the  life  of  a 
bird. 

I think  this  a matter  of  so  much 


62  parley’s  story  of 

consequence,  that  I beg  my  little  read- 
ers to  give  me  their  promise  never  to 
rob  a bird’s  nest,  or  harm  a bird,  but 
with  good  cause.  I beg  them  all  to  be 
the  friends,  not  the  enemies  of  birds ; 
to  love  them,  as  little  creatures  that 
God  has  made  to  hover  in  the  sweet 
air  of  spring  and  summer ; to  sing 
their  songs  among  the  trees  and  bush- 
es ; to  feed  upon  the  insects,  seeds  and 
berries ; to  rear  their  young  ; to  live 
lives  of  joy  and  happiness,  and  to 
render  the  landscape  more  lively  and 
more  interesting  to  us  all.  Let  us 
not  then  spoil  the  work,  and  interfere 
with  the  plan,  of  that  good  Being, 
whose  works  are  so  wonderful,  and 


ROBERT  SEA.BOY. 


63 


who  in  goodness  and  wisdom  has  made 
them  all. 

To  make  you  all  better  remember 
what  I have  said,  I will  tell  you  a sto- 
ry of  Robert  Seaboy.  He  related  it  to 
me  himself ; and  I will  give  it  as  nearly 
as  I can  in  his  own  words. 


STORY  OF  THE  BIRD  ROBBER. 

“ I lived,  as  you  know,  at  Newbury- 
port,  about  forty  miles  from  Boston. 
My  father  was  the  captain  of  a ves- 
sel, and,  during  my  childhood,  spent 
a great  part  of  his  time  at  sea.  My 
mother  was  very  kind  to  me,  and  per- 
mitted me  to  do  almost  every  thing 
that  I liked. 


64  parley’s  story  of 

When  I was  about  eight  or  ten 
years  old,  though  I went  to  school,  I 
had  a good  deal  of  time  for  play  and 
amusement.  I used  to  walk  in  the 
fields  and  woods,  and  nothing  delighted 
me  so  much  as  the  birds.  I would 
often  pause  in  my  walks,  and  look  at 
them  for  hours,  as  they  were  busy  in 
smoothing  their  feathers,  sporting 
amid  the  trees,  singing  their  songs,  or 
building  their  nests. 

There  were  two  birds  that  particu- 
larly attracted  my  attention : these 
were  a pair  of  blue  birds,  that  had 
built  their  nests  in  the  hollow  trunk  of 
a tree  in  the  edge  of  the  forest.  I 
loved  the  notes  of  these  birds,  for 


ROBERT  SEABOY. 


65 


they  were  soft  and  gentle  ; and  though 
they  made  me  sad,  they  yet  gave  me 
pleasure. 

I paid  frequent  visits  to  the  blue 
birds’  nests ; and  one  day,  I ascended 
the  tree,  and  peeped  into  the  hole 
where  the  young  ones  lay.  There 
were  five  of  them,  and  they  opened 
their  little  mouths  as  if  they  expected 
I would  give  them  something  to  eat. 
They  were  very  pretty,  and  I had  a 
great  desire  to  carry  them  home  ; but 
the  old  birds  came  around,  and  pleaded 
so  sadly  for  their  little  ones,  that  I 
went  away  and  left  them  in  the  nest.  , 

The  next  day,  I told  the  story  to 

one  of  my  companions.  He  laughed 
5 


66 


parley’s  story  of 


at  my  scruples,  and  told  me  that  he 
had  often  taken  young  birds  from  the 
nest,  and  that  there  was  no  harm  in 
it.  This  changed  my  feelings ; and  I 
determined  to  pay  a visit  to  the  woods 
the  next  day,  and  get  the  young  blue 
birds. 

Although  it  was  the  Sabbath,  I did 
not  forget  my  plan.  I was  dressed 
for  church,  and  my  mother  supposed 
that  I set  off  to  go  to  the  house  of 
worship.  But  I turned  aside,  and 
very  wickedly  went  to  the  woods.  I 
climbed  the  tree,  and  took  the  young 
birds  from  the  place  where  they  had 
been  bred.  Their  parents  wailed 
piteously ; and  as  I knelt  upon  the 


ROBERT  SEABOY. 


67 


ground,  admiring  the  little  captives, 
the  mother  came  quite  near,  and 
shrieked  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 
She  seemed  to  pray  me  not  to  carry 
away  her  children  ; not  to  rob  her  of 
those  she  loved  best.  I was  deaf  to 
these  cries,  and  with  a beating  heart 
bore  away  my  prize. 

My  mother  rebuked  me  severely 
for  my  conduct.  In  the  first  place, 
she  told  me,  I had  violated  the  Sab- 
bath, and  in  the  next  place,  had  done 
a cruel  deed.  I felt  very  sorry,  but 
yet  I kept  the  little  birds ; and  they 
seemed  to  reward  me  for  the  pain  I 
had  suffered  from  my  mother’s  dis- 
pleasure. I fed  them  with  great  care, 


68  parley’s  story  of 

and  at  night  put  them  in  a basket  for 
safety.  In  the  morning,  I woke  early, 
and  went  to  see  my  little  birds.  Alas ! 
they  were  all  dead  ! The  food  I had 
given  them,  or  separation  from  their 
parents,  had  caused  the  death  of  these 
little  innocent  creatures. 

I wept  bitterly,  and,  for  years  after- 
wards, I often  thought  of  this  cruel 
action.  I had  a sort  of  fear  that 
something  would  happen  to  punish 
me  for  it.  At  length  an  event  took 
place,  which  I have  sometimes  be- 
lieved was,  in  some  degree,  a return 
for  my  cruelty. 

When  I was  fourteen  years  old,  my 
father  took  me  to  sea.  We  sailed 


ROBERT  SEABOY. 


69 


across  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  and  en- 
tered the  Mediterranean.  This  sea 
was  frequented  at  that  time  by  sea- 
robbers,  called  corsairs.  One  day, 
we  were  met  by  a corsair  vessel,  and 
a sharp  battle  followed.  I was  on  the 
deck  of  our  vessel,  when  some  of  the 
pirates  sprang  from  their  own  ship, 
and  entered  ours.  They  were  soon 
driven  back ; but  one  of  the  pirates 
laid  his  strong  arm  around  my  waist, 
and  sprang  back  into  his  vessel. 

The  robbers,  finding  it  impossible 
to  take  our  ship,  retreated,  carry- 
ing me  with  them.  My  father  was  in 
the  greatest  distress  ; and  I heard  him 
shouting,  and  giving  orders  for  the 


70 


parley’s  story  of 


pursuit.  But  this  was  all  in  vain. 
The  robbers  escaped,  and  1 was  car- 
ried into  captivity.  For  nearly  two 
years,  1 remained  at  Algiers,  suffering 
great  cruelty  and  hardship. 

At  length,  I was  released,  and  re- 
turned to  my  parents.  I was  now 
happy ; but  during  my  captivity,  I 
frequently  dwelt  upon  my  cruelty  to 
the  little  blue  birds ; and  I suffered 
the  more  keenly  from  remembering, 
that  I had  as  little  mercy  upon  these 
helpless  creatures,  as  the  Algerines  had 
upon  me.” 

Such  is  the  story  of  Robert  Sea- 
boy.  And  though  I do  not  suppose, 
that  all  children,  who  are  cruel  to 


ROBERT  SEABOY. 


71 


birds,  will  fall  into  the  hands  of  pi- 
rates, still  my  young  readers  may  rest 
assured,  that  cruelty  to  birds,  as  well 
as  other  crimes,  will  deprive  them  of 
that  peace  of  mind,  which  is  the  best 
comfort  in  the  hour  of  distress. 


STORY  OF  THE  ORPHANS. 


A few  years  ago,  there  were  two 
boys  in  Maryland,  named  Edward  and 
Edwin.  They  were  of  the  same  age, 
and  often  played  together,  but  their 
situations  were  very  different. 

The  father  of  Edwin  was  rich.  He 
had  a fine  house,  fine  carriages,  and 
fine  horses.  Edwin  was  his  only  child, 
and  he  enjoyed  every  luxury.  He  had 
servants  to  attend  upon  him  constantly, 
and  gratify  every  want  or  wish.  His 
clothes  were  of  the  finest  sort,  and 


STORY  OF  THE  ORPHANS.  73 


he  was  supplied  with  a great  many 
pleasing  toys  from  New  York,  London, 
and  Paris. 

The  father  of  little  Edward  was 
poor,  and  he  lived  in  a small  brown 
house,  at  no  great  distance  from  the 
splendid  mansion  in  which  Edwin 
dwelt.  It  was  indeed  but  little  more 
than  a hut,  and  though  it  was  comfort- 
able, it  was  destitute  of  all  that  was 
not  absolutely  necessary  to  subsistence. 
The  furniture  consisted  of  a few  chairs, 
a single  table,  a bed,  a mattress  for 
little  Edward,  and  a few  other  needful 
articles. 

But  although  Edward’s  father  was 
poor,  he  was  industrious,  and  obtained 


74  parley’s  story  of 

a comfortable  livelihood  by  working  in 
the  garden  of  Edwin’s  father.  He  was 
fond  of  his  son,  and  often  took  him  to 
the  garden  with  him.  Here  the  little 
boy  spent  his  time  in  pulling  up 
weeds,  in  forming  little  beds  of  earth 
for  flowers,  and  in  other  similar 
occupations.  Sometimes  Edwin  came 
into  the  garden,  and  then  the  two  boys 
played  together. 

In  this  way,  an  intimacy  grew  up 
between  the  children,  and  they  soon 
became  very  fond  of  each  other.  As 
soon  as  breakfast  was  over,  they  both 
resorted  to  the  garden,  and  there  they 
spent  their  time  very  happily  together. 
They  did  not  like  to  be  apart,  and 


THE  ORPHANS. 


75 


when  there  happened  to  be  a rainy 
day,  Edwin  felt  so  uneasy,  that  Edward 
was  sent  for,  and  they  spent  the  day 
together  in  the  play-room. 

The  characters  and  dispositions  of 
these  two  children  were  naturally  alike. 
They  were  both  lively,  amiable,  kind- 
hearted  and  generous.  But  at  length 
they  became  changed  by  the  manner 
in  which  they  were  treated.  Edwin, 
being  indulged  in  all  his  wishes, 
learned  to  think  that  nothing  could 
be  denied  him.  Instead  of  growing 
more  amiable,  on  account  of  the  many 
blessings  and  pleasures  he  enjoyed, 
he  grew  passionate,  selfish,  and  disa- 
greeable. He  insisted  upon  being 
preferred  in  every  thing. 


76  parley’s  story  of 

If  Edward  chanced  to  have  a toy 
which  he  wanted,  he  would  snatch  it 
from  his  hands.  If  fruit  was  brought 
to  them,  he  would  always  have  the 
best,  and  sometimes  he  would  take  all 
to  himself.  When  he  had  a piece  of 
cake,  he  would  often  sit  and  eat  it  as 
greedily  as  a puppy,  and  never  give 
a share  of  it  to  poor  little  Edward  at 
his  side. 

All  this  mean  and  selfish  conduct  on 
the  part  of  Edwin  was  overlooked  ; 
and  though  he  was  now  a very  disa- 
greeable child,  still  a great  deal  of  at- 
tention was  paid  to  him,  because  his 
father  was  rich,  and  because  he  lived 
in  a fine  house. 


THE  ORPHANS. 


77 


It  was  very  different  with  Edward. 
He  was  always  treated  as  an  inferior, 
and  was  obliged  to  give  way  to  Edwin 
in  every  thing.  His  wishes  and  pleas- 
ures were  not  allowed  to  interfere,  in 
the  slightest  degree,  with  those  of  Ed- 
win.  Whatever  he  might  chance  to 
possess,  he  was  required  to  relinquish 
it  the  instant  that  Edwin  desired  it. 
Whatever  he  might  be  doing,  he  was 
immediately  forced  to  change  his  plan, 
if  Edwin  wished  him  to  do  something 
else. 

Instead  of  resenting  this  treatment, 
Edward  became  more  patient  and  for- 
bearing. He  loved  little  Edwin,  and 
though  he  felt  that  he  was  sometimes 


78  parley’s  story  of 

treated  with  injustice,  he  still  submit- 
ted to  it  without  repining.  If  Edwin 
snatched  an  apple  or  a peach  from  his 
hand,  when  he  was  about  to  taste  it, 
he  said  nothing,  and  quietly  permitted 
the  greedy  boy  to  devour  it. 

Even  when  he  was  very  hungry,  if 
Edwin  took  his  little  crust  of  bread 
from  his  hand,  and  ate  it  before  his 
face,  he  smiled  kindly,  and  seemed  to 
say,  “ My  dear  boy,  if  my  poor  crust 
of  bread  can  give  you  pleasure,  you 
are  most  welcome  to  it.” 

Thus  you  see  that  Edwin  was  now 
a spoiled  child,  while  Edward  was^  a 
good,  kind  and  amiable  boy.  They 
were  both  good  once  ; but  Edwin  had 


THE  ORPHANS. 


79 


been  indulged,  and  this  indulgence  had 
made  him  passionate,  selfish  and  disa- 
greeable. Edward,  on  the  contrary, 
by  being  trained  in  the  habit  of  giving 
up  his  wishes  to  another,  had  become 
even  more  gentle  and  generous. 

Thus  you  see,  my  little  friends,  that 
indulgence  is  bad  for  children,  and 
being  made  to  give  up  their  wishes  is 
good  for  them.  I beg  you  to  remem- 
ber, therefore,  that  when  your  parents 
deny  you  any  gratification,  it  is  for 
your  good  that  they  deny  it ; and  if 
they  require  you  to  forego  any  pleas- 
ure, it  is  for  your  good  that  they  re- 
quire it. 

Remember  the  story  of  Edwin  and 


80  parley’s  story  of 

Edward,  and  recollect,  that  indulgence 
makes  children  selfish,  greedy,  passion- 
ate and  disagreeable,  and  that  the  habit 
of  giving  way  to  another,  trains  the 
little  heart  in  ways  of  gentleness,  meek- 
ness and  charity. 

After  a few  years,  the  parents  of 
both  the  little  boys,  of  whom  I have 
been  telling  you,  were  dead.  Ed- 
ward was  left  in  a state  of  absolute 
poverty  ; but  Edwin  inherited  the  large 
estate  of  his  father,  and  was  therefore 
very  rich. 

He  continued  still  to  like  the  com- 
pany of  his  young  friend,  and  the  poor 
boy  was  therefore  permitted  to  live  in 
his  house,  but  in  a very  humble  capaci- 


THE  ORPHANS. 


81 


ty.  ' He  was  indeed  rather  the  servant 
of  Edwin  ; but  he  was  so  kind,  active 
and  attentive,  that  Edwin  could  not  live 
without  him. 

Thus  the  boys  grew  up  together, 
until  they  were  fifteen  years  of  age. 
Their  characters  remained  nearly  the 
same,  except  that  Edwin  grew  more 
and  more  selfish,  passionate  and  un- 
reasonable, while  Edward  became  still 
more  gentle  in  his  manners,  and  more 
generous  in  his  temper. 

He  was  indeed  a noble  boy ; and 
though  he  was  poor,  ill-dressed  and 
destitute,  still  no  one  could  look  upon 
his  amiable  face,  or  listen  to  his  kind 

voice,  or  mark  his  frank  and  hearty 
6 


82 


parley’s  story  of 


manners,  without  loving  and  admiring 
him.  On  the  contrary,  though  Ed- 
win was  richly  dressed,  and  well  fed, 
and  surrounded  by  attentive  servants, 
no  one  could  observe  his  angry  face, 
and  his  pouting  lips,  or  listen  to  his 
sharp,  spiteful  voice,  without  feeling  a 
sentiment  of  strong  dislike. 

The  two  orphans  thus  went  on  till 
they  were  about  sixteen  years  of  age. 
It  was  at  this  period  that  a serious 
accident  happened,  which  displayed 
their  characters  in  a striking  manner. 

They  were  on  a journey  to  the 
western  part  of  Virginia.  Having 
stopped  one  evening  amidst  the  Alle- 
ghany mountains,  the  boys  wandered 


THE  ORPHANS. 


83 


from  the  house  to  a considerable  dis- 
tance. The  sun  had  set,  but  the  twi- 
light still  rendered  it  almost  as  light  as 
day.  They  wandered  along  the  banks 
of  a little  river,  shaded  by  woods,  for 
a considerable  time,  until,  at  length, 
Edward  thought  it  best  to  return. 

But  Edwin  was  delighted  with  the 
ramble,  and  would  not  go  back.  In 
vain  did  Edward  represent  that  it  was 
getting  late,  that  they  were  far  from 
home,  and  that  there  was  danger  of 
their  getting  lost  in  the  woods. 

Thus  they  continued  to  proceed  for 
some  time,  until  it  was  quite  dark. 
Edwin  now  consented  to  return  ; but, 
instead  of  following  the  stream,  which 


84  parley’s  story  of 

would  have  guided  them  back  in  safe- 
ty, he  attempted  to  go  back  by  a short- 
er route.  Edward  warned  him  of  the 
danger  of  such  a step  ; but  he  obsti- 
nately persisted  in  his  course. 

The  two  boys  were  soon  lost  in  the 
woods,  and  surrounded  with  perfect 
darkness.  They  found  it  impossible 
to  proceed,  and,  at  length,  were  forced 
to  sit  down  from  fatigue.  But  by  and 
by,  the  moon  rose,  and  they  again  at- 
tempted to  go  forward.  Though  Ed- 
win had  been  the  cause  of  their  pres- 
ent difficulty,  Edward  did  not  now  re- 
proach him  with  it. 

On  the  contrary,  he  cheered  his 
young  friend  by  speaking  in  a gay  and 


THE  ORPHANS. 


85 


pleasant  manner,  by  helping  him  over 
the  rocks  and  fallen  trees,  and  by  tell- 
ing lively  and  humorous  stories.  But 
in  spite  of  his  efforts,  Edwin  was  in 
the  worst  possible  humor  ; he  spoke 
roughly  to  his  friend,  accused  him  of 
being  the  cause  of  their  present  dan- 
ger, and  finally  sat  down  in  a little  open 
space,  absolutely  refusing  to  go  any 
farther. 

In  vain  did  Edward  attempt  to  rouse 
him  ; he  would  not  stir,  but  continued 
to  rail  at  his  companion,  calling  him 
all  sorts  of  names,  and  upbraiding  him 
with  every  species  of  abuse.  Edward 
did  not  resent  this,  but  left  him  for  a 
moment,  to  go  in  search  of  a path 


86  parley’s  story  of 

through  the  woods.  He  had  gone  but 
a short  distance,  when  he  heard  Edwin 
cry  for  help.  He  flew  back  in  an  in- 
stant, and,  by  the  bright  light  of  the 
moon,  saw  his  friend  in  a situation  of 
the  greatest  peril. 

He  was  sitting  upon  the  ground ; 
and,  at  the  distance  of  a few  yards,  a 
panther  was  crouched  upon  the  ground, 
ready  to  spring  upon  him.  Edwin 
was  unable  to  move  from  fright,  but 
gazed  with  a wild  look  of  terror 
upon  the  glaring  eyes  of  the  fierce 
animal. 

Edward  did  not  hesitate  a moment. 
He  sprung  forward  like  an  arrow,  and 
placed  himself  between  the  panther 


THE  ORPHANS. 


87 


and  his  affrighted  friend.  For  a mo- 
ment, the  animal  was  alarmed,  and 
drew  back  ; then,  with  a terrible  howl, 
he  rushed  upon  Edward.  So  violent 
was  the  bound,  that  Edward  was 
thrown  to  the  earth ; and  the  claws 
and  teeth  of  the  panther  were  fastened 
in  his  body.  But  he  was  a powerful 
young  man  ; and,  seizing  the  beast  by 
the  throat,  he  nearly  choked  him  to 
death.  * 

The  struggle  continued  for  some 
time.  Edwin  was  too  much  frightened 
to  stir  from  his  seat  upon  the  ground, 
and  Edward  was  left  to  his  fate.  But, 
full  of  courage,  he  exerted  himself  to 
the  utmost ; and,  finally,  taking  a 


88  parley’s  story  of 

knife  from  his  pocket,  he  plunged  it  in 
the  panther’s  side,  and,  reaching  his 
heart,  killed  him  in  an  instant.  With 
a fierce  howl,  the  creature  let  go  his 
hold,  and  fell  at  full  length  upon  the 
ground. 

The  noise  of  the  strife  had  been 
heard  at  a log-house  which  was  near, 
and  some  people  soon  came  to  the 
spot.  Edward  was  dreadfully  torn; 
and  when  the  necessity  of  Exertion 
was  over,  he  fainted,  and  fell  upon 
the  earth.  He  was  carried  to  the  hut, 
and  for  a long  time,  he  seemed  near 
death. 

For  the  first  time,  Edwin  seemed 
touched  with  generous  sentiments. 


THE  ORPHANS. 


89 


He  knew  that  Edward  had  suffered 
through  his  fault ; and  he  remembered 
that,  at  the  very  moment  he  was  un- 
justly reproaching  his  friend,  he  came 
forward,  and  put  his  own  life  in  danger, 
to  save  him. 

As  he  looked  upon  the  pale  and 
deathlike  countenance  of  Edward, 
his  heart  was  wrung  with  agony  ; the 
tears  flowed  fast  down  his  cheeks ; 
and,  bending  over  his  friend,  he  ex- 
claimed, “ Edward,  Edward,  dear  Ed- 
ward, forgive  me,  forgive  me.  I have 
been  most  unkind,  most  cruel.  Oh, 
do  not  die,  do  not  look  so  deadly  pale  ! 
Open  your  eyes,  my  dear  friend  ; look 
upon  me  ; speak,  forgive  me  ! Dear, 
generous  Edward,  forgive  me  !” 


90  parley’s  story  of 

At  this  moment,  Edward  opened  his 
eyes,  and  smiled  upon  his  friend.  It 
was  the  happiest  moment  of  his  life. 
It  was  the  first  instance  of  kindness 
that  had  ever  shone  upon  his  heart 
from  Edwin.  His  faintness  soon  passed 
away  ; and  though  he  remained  sev- 
eral weeks  in  confinement,  he  at  length 
recovered. 

Edwin  was  his  constant  attendant 
and  careful  nurse,  during  his  confine- 
ment ; and  when  they  returned  to  Ma- 
ryland, he  divided  his  fortune  with  his 
friend. 

Thus,  although,  for  a long  time,  Ed- 
win was  rendered  selfish  and  cruel  by 
indulgence,  still  Edward’s  generous 


THE  ORPHANS. 


91 


conduct  made  him  perceive  and  feel 
his  wickedness,  and  restored  him  to 
the  influence  of  better  feelings. 

Now,  the  lessons  to  be  drawn  from 
this  story  are  these  ; that  indulgence 
is  bad  for  children,  and  may  even 
spoil  a good  boy  or  good  girl ; and 
that  a poor  boy,  who  is  kind  and  good, 
is  better  loved,  and  more  worthy  of  at- 
tention, than  a rich  boy,  who  is  cross 
and  selfish. 


STORY  OF  THE  LITTLE  WANDERERS. 


I will  now  tell  you  a story  of  what 
took  place  many  years  ago.  I sup- 
pose you  remember  that  in  the  coun- 
try where  we  now  live,  there  were 
once  a good  many  red  people,  called 
Indians.  They  did  not  cut  down  the 
trees,  and  plough  the  land,  and  build 
houses,  and  have  gardens,  as  we  do ; 
on  the  contrary,  these  people  suffered 
the  forests  to  grow,  and  lived  by  hunt- 
ing bears,  deer,  and  other  animals, 
which  roamed  among  them. 


THE  LITTLE  WANDERERS. 


93 


For  a long  time,  the  Indians  lived 
alone,  and  possessed  the  whole  coun- 
try ; the  mountains,  the  rivers,  the 
lakes  and  the  valleys  were  all  theirs. 
But,  at  length,  the  white  people  came, 
and  settled  among  them.  At  first, 
the  Indians  were  kind  and  friendly  : 
they  gave  the  white  people  food ; they 
gave  them  land,  and  did  what  they 
could  to  make  them  comfortable  and 
happy. 

Then,  many  more  white  people 
came,  and  by  degrees,  they  increased, 
till  they  became  very  numerous,  and 
took  possession  of  a great  deal  of  the 
land.  They  cut  down  the  trees,  they 
killed  the  wild  animals,  until  at  length 


94  parley’s  story  of 

the  red  men  found  it  difficult  to  ob- 
tain wild  game  enough  to  live  upon. 

For  this  and  other  reasons,  the  In- 
dians became  the  enemies  of  the 
white  people,  and  many  cruel  wars 
took  place  in  consequence.  It  was 
during  one  of  these  wars  that  the 
events  happened  which  I am  now  going 
to  relate.  They  will  show  you,  that, 
although  the  red  men  were  wild  sav- 
ages, living  in  the  woods,  and  roaming 
about  in  search  of  food,  yet  instances 
of  noble  and  generous  feeling  some- 
times occurred  among  them. 

There  was  a man  by  the  name  of 
Gaylord,  who  lived  near  the  present 
town  of  Concord,  in  New  Hampshire. 


THE  LITTLE  WANDERERS.  95 

His  house  was  made  of  logs,  and 
pleasantly  situated  in  a little  valley, 
by  the  side  of  a small  river.  It  was 
seven  miles  from  the  dwelling  of  any 
other  white  person,  and  the  road  to 
the  nearest  settlement  lay  through  the 
thick  forest. 

But  although  Mr.  Gaylord  dwelt  in 
a place  so  lonely,  still  he  did  not  feel 
his  solitude.  He  had  a wife  and  two 
children.  These  he  loved  very  much, 
and  they  saved  him  from  feeling  that 
he  was  alone. 

The  two  children  were  both  of 
them  girls  : one,  named  Jane,  was  nine 
years  old  ; the  other,  named  Laura, 
was  but  five.  They  were  both  very 


96 


PARLEY  S STORY  OF 


pretty,  and,  what  is  better,  they  were 
both  very  good.  They  loved  their 
parents,  and  it  was  their  chief  pleas- 
ure to  obey  them.  Jane,  indeed,  was 
too  fond  of  wandering  in  the  woods, 
and  was  a little  impatient  if  her 
mother  would  not  allow  her  to  ramble 
about  as  much  as  she  pleased.  But 
of  this  fault  she  was  cured,  in  the  way 
I shall  soon  tell  you. 

Not  far  from  Mr.  Gaylord’s  house, 
there  was  an  Indian,  by  the  name  of 
Shaumut.  He  lived  in  a small  hut, 
made  of  the  branches  of  trees, 
covered  over  with  turf.  He  was,  on 
the  whole,  a good  and  friendly  man, 
though,  like  the  other  Indians,  he 


THE  LITTLE  WANDERERS.  97 

dwelt  in  the  forest,  and  lived  in  a 
wild  and  savage  manner. 

Now,  it  happened  that  two  bad  white 
men,  who  lived  at  the  settlement, 
seven  or  eight  miles  from  Mr.  Gay- 
lord’s, knowing  that  he  lived  alone, 
determined  to  rob  him  of  what  they 
could  get.  Accordingly,  one  night 
they  came  into  his  house,  and  carried 
off  several  articles  of  considerable 
value.  They  took  what  money  he 
had,  his  best  clothes,  and  many  other 
things.  They  then  left  the  house ; 
and,  the  whole  family  being  asleep, 
they  escaped  in  safety. 

The  thieves  now  went  toward  Shau- 

l 

mut’s  house,  taking  care  to  drop  one 

7 


98 


parley’s  story  of 


or  two  of  the  articles  as  they  passed 
along.  This  was  done,  that  if,  in  the 
morning,  the  articles  should  be  found, 
Shaumut  might  be  suspected  of  the 
robbery. 

When  Mr.  Gaylord  arose  in  the 
morning,  he  discovered  the  theft.  It 
was  then  the  custom  to  lay  every  mis- 
fortune to  the  Indians,  and  every 
crime  that  was  committed  was  of 
course  set  down  to  their  account.  It 
was  but  natural,  therefore,  that  Mr. 
Gaylord  should  impute  the  robbery  to 
them.  After  thinking  of  it  a little 
while,  he  determined  to  go  to  Shau- 
mut’s  hcuse,  and  see  if  he  could  dis- 
cover the  truth.  While  he  was  on  his 


THE  LITTLE  WANDERERS.  99 

way,  he  found  the  articles  which  the 
rogues  had  dropped,  and  immediate- 
ly concluded  that  Shaumut  was  the 
thief. 

He  now  turned  on  his  heel,  and 
went  back  to  his  house.  He  then  re- 
paired to  the  white  settlement,  and  told 
the  people  what  had  happened.  All 
agreed  that  Shaumut  was  the  robber 
and  no  persons  were  more  positive 
than  the  two  white  men  who  had 
themselves  committed  the  crime. 

It  was  determined  that  Shaumut 
should  be  immediately  punished  ; and 
four  men,  armed  with  guns,  returned 
with  Mr.  Gayjord  to  his  house,  for  the 
purpose  of  carrying  this  scheme  into 


100  parley’s  story  of 

execution.  They  waited  until  it  was 
dark,  and  then  repaired  to  the  scene 
of  action.  Shaumut’s  house,  as  I 
have  said  before,  consisted  of  sticks, 
covered  over  with  sods.  It  was  a 
kind  of  hut,  called  a wigwam.  There 
was  no  door,  but  the  people  passed 
in  and  out  through  a small  hole,  by 
getting  down  upon  their  hands  and 
knees. 

It  was  about  nine  o’clock  of  a sum- 
mer evening  that  Gaylord  and  his 
companions  surrounded  the  red  man’s 
abode.  The  Indian,  with  his  wife 
and  two  small  children,  was  already 
asleep.  Not  thinking  of  danger,  they 
were  all  reposing  on  their  bear-skin 


THE  LITTLE  WANDERERS.  101 


beds,  enjoying  that  rest  which  the 
hardy  labors  of  their  life  rendered 
doubly  sweet. 

Suddenly,  the  silence  of  the  night 
was  broken  by  the  sound  of  a mus- 
ket. Shaumut  heard  the  noise,  and, 
creeping  out  of  his  wigwam,  was  met 
by  Mr.  Gaylord,  who  charged  him 
with  the  theft.  Shaumut  denied  the 
charge.  “ Theft,”  said  he,  “ is  the 
white  man’s  crime.  The  red  man’s 
hand  may  wield  the  tomahawk,  or 
pull  the  bowstring,  but  his  fingers  can- 
not steal.” 

But  in  spite  of  this  declaration, 
Gaylord  and  his  friends,  believing  that 
Shaumut  was  guilty,  drove  the  Indian 


102 


parley’s  story  of 


and  his  family  from  their  house,  and 
then  set  it  on  fire.  At  the  same 
time,  they  told  him  to  leave  the  place, 
and  never  return  to  it.  Thus  the 
poor  savage  was  forced  to  see  his 
dwelling  place  consumed,  his  wife 
and  children  without  a shelter,  and 
his  own  name  branded  with  crime. 
But  he  said  nothing.  He  gloomily 
plunged  into  the  forest,  and,  followed 
by  his  family,  disappeared  from  the 
little  valley  where  he  had  so  long 
dwelt. 

More  than  a year  had  passed  away, 
and  the  events  which  I have  just  re- 
lated were  forgotten.  At  this  time,  it 
became  necessary  for  Mr.  Gaylord 


THE  LITTLE  WANDERERS.  103 


and  his  wife  to  go  to  the  village 
which  I have  before  mentioned. 
They  sat  out  early  in  the  morning, 
with  the  intention  of  returning  at 
night.  Having  given  strict  charge  to 
their  children  to  remain  at  home,  they 
felt  no  anxiety,  but  went  on  their 
long  walk,  with  light  steps  and  merry 
hearts. 

They  had  not  been  gone  long,  when 
Jane  proposed  to  her  little  sister  to 
take  a short  wralk  in  the  woods. 
Laura  objected  to  this,  because  their 
parents  had  told  them  to  stay  at  home. 
But  Jane  said  there  could  be  no  harm 
in  it ; they  would  go  but  a little  way  ; 
they  would  soon  come  back,  and  no- 
body would  know  it. 


104  parley’s  story  of 

Laura  at  length  consented,  and  the 
two  girls  set  out  upon  their  ramble, 
with  the  intention  of  returning  very 
soon.  But  the  day  was  very  pleasant, 
and,  it  being  now  autumn,  the  trees 
were  shedding  their  nuts  in  great 
abundance.  The  squirrels,  who  were 
laying  up  their  winter  stores,  were 
leaping  from  bough  to  bough,  and 
filling  the  forest  with  their  merry 
voices. 

The  two  children  went  on  and  on, 
and  two  or  three  hours  glided  insen- 
sibly away.  At  length,  Laura,  whose 
heart  had  been  ill  at  ease  during  the 
walk,  reminded  her  sister  that  they 
must  return.  Accordingly,  they  set 


THE  LITTLE  WANDERERS.  105 

out  to  go  back ; but  they  soon  missed 
their  way. 

They  wandered  about  for  some 
time,  and  neither  dared  to  say  to  the 
other  that  they  were  lost.  But,  at 
length,  they  looked  in  each  other’s 
faces,  and  began  to  cry.  For  some 
time,  they  remained  at  the  foot  of  a 
tree,  lamenting  their  disobedience,  and 
expressing  their  anxiety  to  each  oth- 
er. But  by  and  by  they  arose,  and, 
excited  by  their  fear,  they  walked  on 
as  fast  as  the  thick  trees  and  bushes 
would  permit. 

At  length,  the  day  began  to  fade, 
and  night  gradually  settled  over  the 
woods.  The  voices  of  the  birds  died 


106  parley’s  story  of 

away  ; the  chattering  of  the  squirrels 
ceased.  No  sound  was  now  heard 
but  the  crackling  of  the  leaves  and 
sticks  beneath  the  feet  of  the  wander- 
ers. But  these  now  seemed  a great 
deal  louder  than  before  ; and  their 
hearts  beat  with  fear  at  the  sounds 
which  they  themselves  created.  But 
still  they  pushed  on,  until  the  dark- 
ness, with  the  thick  woods,  rendered 
it  impossible  for  them  to  proceed. 

Overcome  with  fatigue,  they  sat 
down,  and  both  of  them  wept  bitterly. 
Seated  by  the  side  of  a rock,  and 
folded  in  each  other’s  arms,  they  re- 
mained until  sleep  came  to  their  re- 
lief. With  the  rock  for  a pillow,  they 


THE  LITTLE  WANDERERS.  107 


slept  till  morning ; and  so  quiet  and 
innocent  did  they  seem,  that  the  birds 
came  around  them,  and  a robin 
alighted  upon  Jane’s  shoulder.  In 
this  situation,  he  began  his  song  ; but 
the  loud  note,  as  it  rang  in  the  ear  of 
the  young  sleeper,  woke  her  from  her 
dream. 

She  sprang  to  her  feet ; but  for  a 
moment,  she  could  not  recollect  where 
she  was.  On  looking  around,  she 
perceived  the  thick  woods ; and  then, 
glancing  her  eye  at  little  Laura,  who 
was  still  sleeping,  she  remembered 
their  dreary  situation,  and  the  tears 
again  filled  her  eyes. 

While  she  was  standing  by  her  sis- 


108  parley’s  story  of 

ter,  hesitating  what  course  to  pursue, 
she  heard  a crackling  in  the  leaves, 
as  if  some  one  approached.  Her 
first  feeling  was  that  of  joy,  for  she 
believed  that  her  father  was  coming 
to  her  relief.  But  what  was  her  dis- 
may when  she  saw  an  Indian  come 
rapidly  up  to  her,  and  discovered  him 
to  be  no  other  than  Shaumut!  Know- 
ing what  had  happened  between  her 
father  and  him,  she  expected  that 
the  angry  savage  would  put  Laura 
and  herself  to  death.  But  we  shall 
see  that  the  red  man’s  revenge  was  of 
a very  different  nature. 

I must  now  tell  you  that  the  parents 
of  the  two  children  returned  at  even- 


THE  LITTLE  WANDERERS.  109 

ing,  and  found  their  house  vacant. 
In  vain  did  they  call  for  Jane  and 
Laura;  in  vain  did  they  search  the 
woods,  and  shout  from  every  little  hill 
around  the  valley.  The  night  was 
spent  in  a fruitless  search,  and  the 
morning  came,  but  still  the  children 
were  not  to  be  found. 

The  succeeding  day  had  passed, 
and  the  disconsolate  parents  were 
sitting  at  their  open  door.  Suddenly, 
Shaumut  appeared  before  them  with 
Jane  and  Laura.  He  stood  apart, 
and  witnessed  the  meeting  of  the  pa- 
rents with  their  children. 

When  the  first  tears  and  kisses 
were  over,  the  Indian  placed  himself 


no 


parley’s  story  of 


before  Mr.  Gaylord,  and  said,  “ White 
man,  listen.  You  supposed  I had 
done  you  wrong.  You  were  mista- 
ken. But  still  you  set  my  wigwam  on 
fire,  and  sent  me  and  my  family  to 
seek  a house  and  a home  beneath  the 
cold  shelter  of  the  oak.  You  drove 
me  from  the  land  of  my  fathers,  and 
bestowed  upon  me  the  names  of  rob- 
ber and  thief.  Behold  a red  man’s 
revenge  ! I met  your  children  in  the 
wilderness.  I could  have  carried 
them  away,  and  made  your  heart  as 
desolate  as  you  have  made  mine.  But 
I did  not  do  it.  I have  brought  your 
children  back.  I restore  them  to 
you  ; and  now,  I say  farewell.” 


THE  LITTLE  WANDERERS.  Ill 


The  red  man  then  turned  away ; 
and  before  Mr.  Gaylord  could  make 
any  reply,  he  was  lost  amid  the  thick 
branches  of  the  trees. 


STORY  OF  ALICE  GRAY. 


There  was  once  a little  girl  by  the 
name  of  Alice  Gray.  She  lived  in 
the  state  of  New  York,  not  far  from 
the  Mohawk  river.  Her  father  was  a 
wealthy  merchant,  and  dwelt  in  a 
very  pretty  house,  situated  on  the  bor- 
der of  a small  lake. 

The  situation  of  little  Alice  might 
have  been  deemed  very  pleasant. 
She  was  an  only  child,  and  both  pa- 
rents were  extremely  fond  of  her.  It 
was  their  greatest  pleasure  to  take 


STORY  OF  ALICE  GRAY.  113 


care  of  her,  and  do  whatever  might  be 
necessary  for  her  present  pleasure  or 
future  happiness.  She  was  provid- 
ed with  good  clothes,  a great  many 
pleasing  books,  and  a multitude  of 
pretty  toys. 

But  notwithstanding  the  care  and 
pains  bestowed  upon  her,  I am  sorry 
to  say,  that  little  Alice  was  not.  alto- 
gether happy.  She  had  what  is  called 
an  uneasy  and  restless  temper.  She 
was  dissatisfied  with  every  thing 
around  her.  A new  doll  pleased  her, 
perhaps,  for  a little  while,  and  then 
she  was  anxious  for  something  else. 
A new  book  would  engage  her  atten- 
tion till  she  had  seen  all  the  pictures, 


114  parley’s  story  of 

and  then  she  wanted  another.  A 
new  basket  was  a favorite ; and  she 
would  carry  it  on  her  arm,  and  talk 
of  it  to  every  body  for  half  an  hour  ; 
but  it  was  then  thrown  aside,  and  she 
would  then  tease  her  mother  to  buy 
her  such  a basket  as  her  cousin 
Jane’s. 

Such  was  the  character  of  little 
Alice  Gray  ; and  you  may  well  believe 
it  gave  her  mother  great  anxiety  and 
distress.  She  perceived  that,  if  in- 
dulged, this  restless  disposition,  this 
constant  craving  for  something  new, 
and  something  more  beautiful  than 
she  possessed,  would  bring  unhap- 
piness upon  her  whole  life,  and 


ALICE  GRAY. 


115 


make  her  a source  of  trouble  to  all 
around  her.  She  felt  that  nothing  is 
more  disagreeable  than  a person, 
whether  young  or  old,  who  gets  soon 
tired  of  what  is  given  to  them,  and 
is  perpetually  seeking  for  something 
which  they  cannot,  or  ought  not  to, 
have.  She  therefore  frequently  talked 
to  Alice,  and  clearly  pointed  out  the 
error  of  her  conduct. 

Alice  listened,  but  she  was  not 
convinced.  Like  other  children,  she 
thought  she  knew  as  much  as  her 
mother  ; or,  perhaps,  having  little  ex- 
perience, she  did  not  look  forward  to 
the  future,  and  see  the  store  of  sor- 
row she  was  laying  tip  ; bat  chose  to 


116  parley’s  story  of 

live,  like  the  butterfly,  for  the  pleasures 
of  to-day,  without  regard  to  the  mor- 
row. 

I am  sorry  to  tell  you  that,  instead 
of  growing  better,  little  Alice  for  a 
time  grew  worse  and  worse,  until  at 
length,  whatever  she  saw,  she  wanted ; 
and  even  things  which  she  had  never 
seen,  and  only  existed  in  her  fancy, 
were  the  objects  of  her  desire.  At 
first,  she  wanted  a little  pony,  and 
that  was  procured  for  her ; then  she 
wanted  a little  wagon,  and  this  also 
was  obtained.  Then  she  desired  a 
pair  of  ponies,  and  a beautiful  little 
phaeton,  and  many  other  things. 

These  wishes  were  deemed  alto- 


ALICE  GRAY. 


117 


gether  unreasonable  by  her  parents, 
and  of  course  she  was  refused.  Alice 
wept  and  pouted  for  a time  ; but  soon 
her  fancy  was  running  upon  some- 
thing else  ; and  thus  her  uneasiness, 
though  it  frequently  changed  from  one 
thing  to  another,  never  ceased  to  an- 
noy those  around  her. 

I must  now  tell  you  about  another 
trait  in  the  character  of  Alice  Gray. 
She  used  often  to  dream  of  things  in 
her  sleep  which  appeared  to  her  very 
pleasant ; and  then  she  would  desire 
to  realize  these  dreams. 

One  night,  she  dreamt  that  she  had 
a little  boat,  and  that  she  sailed  in  it 
upon  the  lake  near  her  father’s  house. 


118 


parley’s  story  of 


The  sensation  of  gliding  over  the  wa- 
ters, in  her  dream,  was  very  pleasing ; 
and  when  she  awoke  in  the  morning, 
she  was  almost  angry,  that  what 
seemed  so  delightful  should  be  only  a 
dream.  As  soon  as  she  was  dressed, 
she  flew  to  her  mother,  related  her 
dream,  and  begged  that  she  might  be 
permitted  to  have  a boat,  and  sail  up- 
on the  water. 

Mrs.  Gray  endeavored  to  dissuade 
her  daughter  from  indulging  this  wish. 
She  represented  to  her  the  danger  of 
sailing  upon  the  water,  and  begged 
her  to  think  no  more  of  it.  But 
Alice  could  find  no  pleasure  in  her 
books,  or  her  toys,  or  her  studies,  or 


ALICE  GRAY. 


119 


her  work.  Her  fancy  was  perpetu- 
ally running  upon  the  boat  of  her 
dream,  that  floated  over  the  waters 
with  a white  sail,  and  seemed  to  bear 
her  along  as  if  on  wings. 

Thus  dissatisfied,  she  went  moping 
about ; and  her  mother,  anxious  to  do 
all  in  her  power  to  please  her  child, 
requested  her  father  to  have  a little 
boat  made  for  her. 

Now  I must  tell  you  that,  in  doing 
this,  Mrs.  Gray  acted  very  unwisely. 
Children  should  not  be  indulged  in 
unreasonable  wishes,  for  indulgence 
does  not  cure  unreasonableness ; on 
the  contrary,  like  water  put  upon 
weeds,  which  makes  them  flourish,  it 


120  parley’s  story  of 

renders  the  disposition  worse.  The 
weeds,  if  the  water  was  withheld, 
might  wither  and  perish,  and  whole- 
some plants,  and  beautiful  flowers, 
grow  up  in  their  place ; and  so  if  a 
child’s  unreasonable  wishes  were  not 
nourished  by  indulgence,  they  would 
cease  to  exist,  and  better  feelings 
would  spring  up  in  the  heart. 

But  I must  tell  you  of  the  boat. 
A carpenter  in  the  village  was  em- 
ployed to  make  one.  Alice  was  very 
impatient,  and  could  hardly  wait  two 
days  till  it  should  be  done.  She 
spoke  of  it  constantly,  and  went  sev- 
eral times  to  the  shop  where  it  was 
building.  At  length,  the  wood-work 


ALICE  GRAY. 


121 


was  done  ; and  then  it  was  painted  a 
bright  green,  as  Alice  insisted  upon 
that  color.  Finally,  it  was  finished  ; a 
mast  was  erected,  a sail  was  attached 
to  it,  and  every  thing  necessary  was 
provided.  At  evening,  it  was  taken 
to  the  lake  ; and  oh,  how  beautifully  it 
danced  upon  the  water ! 

But,  unhappily,  it  was  too  late  for  a 
sail ; for  when  the  boat  was  ready,  it 
had  become  quite  dark.  Alice  would 
have  gone  out  in  the  boat,  dark  as  it 
was  ; but  she  was  obliged  to  give  up 
her  wishes.  She  rose  early  in  the 
morning,  impatient  to  try  the  boat ; 
but  the  weather  was  stormy,  and  she 
could  not  go. 


122 


PARLEY’S  STORY  OF 


She  spent  a miserable  day ; her 
wagon,  her  doll,  the  ball,  the  basket, 
the  books,  were  all  tried,  but  they 
gave  her  no  pleasure.  Finally,  she 
placed  her  hand  upon  the  table,  and 
leaning  her  head  upon  it,  went  asleep, 
and  dreamed  of  her  boat.  At  an 
early  hour,  from  mere  uneasiness,  she 
went  to  bed,  and,  after  a while,  fell 
asleep. 

She  immediately  began  to  dream  of 
her  boat.  She  imagined  that  the 
weather  was  now  fair ; that  the  boat 
was  all  ready  upon  the  lake  ; that  she 
was  standing  by  the  water ; and  that 
the  blue  waves  seemed  to  invite  her 
forth  upon  them.  In  her  dream,  her 


ALICE  GRAY. 


123 


mother  seemed  by  her  side,  and  warned 
her  not  to  go.  She  told  her  of  the 
danger  of  venturing  out  in  the  boat 
alone,  and  seemed  to  say,  “ My 
daughter,  you  do  not  know  how  to 
manage  the  sail ; the  wind  may  come 
and  overset  the  boat,  and  you  may  be 
drowned  ; and,  therefore,  I pray  you, 
my  dear  daughter,  do  not  go  in  the 
boat.” 

Such  was  Alice’s  dream,  and  it 
seemed  to  her  like  reality.  She  re- 
plied, or  seemed  to  reply  to  her  mother, 
that  she  did  not  fear  the  danger  ; that 
the  boat  was  now  ready ; that  the 
weather  was  fair  ; and  that  she  would 
no  longer  be  hindered  from  gratifying 
her  wish. 


124  parley’s  story  of 

Now,  while  Alice  had  been  dream- 
ing in  this  way,  she  had  risen  from 
her  bed,  put  on  her  clothes,  and  gone 
down  in  her  sleep  to  the  border  of  the 
lake.  The  night  was  dark,  and  it 
was  now  nine  o’clock  in  the  evening ; 
but  the  little  girl  went  along  without 
harm,  until  she  stood  upon  a rock, 
by  the  side  of  which  the  boat  was  ly- 
ing. 

All  this  time,  Alice,  as  I have  said 
before,  was  asleep,  and  she  was  dream- 
ing, as  I have  told  you.  The  rest  of 
the  family  had  not  yet  retired  ; but 
Alice  had  passed  out  unobserved. 
She  was,  therefore,  alone  by  the  wa- 
ter, and  no  one  knew  of  her  situa- 
tion. 


ALICE  GRAY. 


125 


For  some  time,  she  stood  upon  the 
rock,  dreaming  that  her  mother  was 
there,  endeavoring  to  dissuade  her 
from  entering  the  boat ; but,  in 
spite  of  all  remonstrance,  she  stepped 
to  the  edge  of  the  rock,  and,  leaping 
forward,  sprung  upon  the  side  of  the 
boat.  In  an  instant,  it  was  upset,  and 
Alice  was  plunged  into  the  water. 

She  awoke  from  her  dream,  and 
screamed  violently  from  fright.  Her 
voice  was  heard,  and  several  persons 
came  to  her  assistance.  With  much 
difficulty  she  was  rescued  from  the 
waves,  and  carried  to  the  house. 
She  was  nearly  drowned,  and  for  some 
time  was  in  a state  of  insensibility. 


126  parley’s  story  of 

At  length,  she  recovered,  and  slept 
quietly  through  the  night. 

When  she  awoke  in  the  morning, 
she  began  to  reflect  upon  her  conduct. 
“ How  eagerly,”  said  she  to  herself, 
“ did  I wish  for  this  boat ! and  yet  what 
trouble  and  danger  it  has  brought  up- 
on me  ! Alas ! I have  done  very  wrong. 
I will  go  to  my  mother,  confess  my  er- 
ror, and  do  so  no  more.” 

Accordingly,  Alice  arose,  and  with 
many  tears  acknowledged  her  fault. 
Her  mother  spoke  to  her  kindly,  and 
promised  forgiveness.  “ But,”  said 
she,  “ remember,  my  dear  Alice,  the 
lesson  which  this  late  event  has  taught 
you.  Remember  to  be  contented 


ALICE  GRAY. 


127 


with  what  is  reasonable,  and  set  not 
your  heart  upon  things  beyond  your 
reach.  Remember  your  little  boat; 
and  if  you  are  ever  tempted  to  indulge 
in  improper  wishes,  or  improper 
pleasures,  recollect  your  dream,  and 
your  ducking  in  the  lake  ! 


STORY  OF  THE  UMBRELLA  AND  THE 
TIGER. 


There  is  a e<  s try  very  far  to  the 
east,  called  Inc:  ■ It  is  impossible 
to  visit  this  county,  but  by  going  in  a 
vessel.  Many  pjffSy  go  there  every 
year  from  Boston.  .trB  they  bring  back 
with  them  variou  ^ articles  of  mer- 
chandise. They  bring  indigo,  which 
is  used  for  dyeing  cloth  of  a blue  color, 
silk  goods  of  many  kinds,  and  beauti- 
ful shawls,  made  from  the  wool  of 
sheep,  that  are  found  in  the  moun- 
tains. 


THE  UMBRELLA  AND  THE  TIGER.  129 


The  inhabitants  of  India  are  of  a 
dark  color,  sombwhat  like  our  Ameri- 
can Indians.  Some  of  them  dwell  in 
costly  houses,  which  are  ornamented 
with  gold  and  silver  ; but  the  greater 
part  live  in  small  huts,  made  of  sticks, 
and  covered  with  leaves.  The  weather 
is  always  warm ; and  these  slight  shel- 
ters are  sufficient  to  protect  the  people 
who  inhabit  them. 

The  trees  and  plants  in  India  are 
very  different  from  those  in  our  coun- 
try. Apples,  pears  and  peaches  do 
not  grow  there,  or  are  uncommon ; 
but  oranges,  lemons,  figs,  and  many 
other  delicious  fruits,  are  abundant. 

The  animals  of  India  differ  as 


130  parley’s  story  of  the 

much  from  ours  as  the  trees.  The 
elephant,  which  is  the  largest  four- 
footed  beast,  is  very  common.  It  is 
found  in  a wild  state,  among  the  val- 
leys and  plains.  It  is  frequently 
caught  by  the  inhabitants,  and  when 
tamed  becomes  very  useful.  It  will 
carry  people  on  its  back,  as  well  as  a 
horse,  and  several  persons  will  often 
perform  a journey  together  upon  one 
of  these  creatures. 

The  rhinoceros  is  another  very  cu- 
rious animal,  found  in  India.  It  is 
twice  as  large  as  the  biggest  ox,  and 
has  a skin  so  thick,  that  a bullet,  shot 
from  a gun,  will  not  enter  it.  It  has 
a large  horn  upon  its  nose,  with  which 


UMBRELLA  AND  THE  TIGER.  131 

it  fights  the  elephant.  It  is  a very 
strong  creature,  and  will  walk  about 
upon  the  bottom  of  a river,  with  the 
water  above  his  head.  He  is  fond  of 
rolling  in  the  mud,  and  behaves  very 
much  like  a hog.  He  is  very  harm- 
less, and,  like  the  elephant,  will  run 
away  from  a man,  as  fast  as  he  can 
scamper. 

Another  interesting  animal  of  India 
is  the  antelope.  This  little  crea- 
ture is  of  a reddish  brown  color, 
and  has  long  slender  legs,  like  those 
of  a deer.  It  has  a full  black  eye, 
and,  when  tamed,  becomes  as  gentle 
as  a lamb.  It  will  eat  from  your 
hand,  and  follow  you  from  place  to 


132  parley’s  story  of  the 

place,  and  seem  as  fond  of  you  as  a 
dog.  But  it  is  a very  timid  creature, 
and,  when  frightened,  flies  over  the 
ground  with  the  greatest  swiftness. 

Beside  these,  there  are  many  other 
interesting  animals  in  India.  There 
are  apes  and  monkeys,  which  make 
the  woods  ring  with  their  clatter ; wild 
buffaloes,  as  large  as  oxen,  and  beau- 
tiful leopards,  with  spotted  skins ; but 
I have  only  time  at  present  to  give 
you  a particular  account  of  the  tiger. 

This  animal  is  much  larger  than  a 
dog,  and  is  shaped  like  a cat.  Its 
skin  is  of  a yellow  color,  beautifully 
marked  with  black  stripes.  Its  claws 
are  sharp,  and  its  teeth  are  strong ; and 


UMBRELLA  AND  THE  TIGER.  133 

it  is  therefore  able  to  kill  the  ante- 
lope, the  deer,  the  goat,  and  other  an- 
imals, upon  which  it  preys. 

The  people  of  India  are  afraid  of 
the  tiger ; and  they  often  go  to 
hunt  it.  When  one  is  known  to  be 
lurking  in  the  bushes  or  grass,  some 
men  will  approach  it,  mounted  upon 
the  back  of  an  elephant.  Having 
guns  loaded  with  bullets,  they  wait 
till  the  animal  springs  at  the  elephant, 
or  shows  himself  crouching  in  the 
thicket ; they  then  fire,  and  usually 
kill  him.  Sometimes,  he  is  only 
wounded,  and  then  he  howls  and 
fights  terribly. 

Tigers  are  sometimes  brought  from 


134  parley’s  story  of  the 

India  to  this  country.  They  are  kept 
in  strong  cages,  and  are  shown  to 
people  who  pay  the  keeper  for  the 
sight.  These  tigers  always  appear 
very  restless,  and  seem  to  be  anxious 
to  get  out  of  the  cage.  But  it  would 
not  do  to  let  them  out,  for  they  are 
very  fierce,  and  might  do  some  mis- 
chief. These  tigers  are  caught  when 
they  are  young.  They  are  then  gen- 
tle and  harmless,  like  kittens.  You 
may  hold  one  in  your  hand,  and  he 
will  not  either  scratch  or  bite. 

The  way  that  young  tigers  are  ta- 
ken is  as  follows.  A man  goes  to  the 
tiger’s  den  when  the  mother  is  away, 
and  carries  off  the  young  ones,  of 


UMBRELLA  AND  THE  TIGER.  135 


which  there  are  generally  three  or 
four.  Pretty  soon,  the  tigress  comes 
back  to  her  den,  and  finds  that  some 
one  has  stolen  her  children.  She 
runs  about  smelling  the  ground,  and 
roaring  fiercely. 

Pretty  soon  she  smells  the  track  of 
the  thief,  and  sets  off  to  pursue  him  at 
a rapid  pace.  The  man  sees  her 
coming,  and  drops  one  of  the  little 
tigers  upon  the  ground.  The  mother 
comes  up,  takes  the  young  one  in  her 
mouth,  and  carries  it  back  to  the  den. 
She  then  returns  to  the  pursuit. 

When  she  approaches  again,  the 
man  lays  down  another  of  the  young 
ones.  In  this  way,  he  proceeds  till 


136  parley’s  story  of  the 

he  has  got  beyond  the  reach  of  the 
fierce  brute,  usually  having  saved  one 
or  two  of  the  little  tigers.  These  are 
sold  to  some  persons  from  America, 
who  put  them  on  board  a ship,  and 
they  come  to  this  country. 

But  although  the  tiger  is  very 
strong,  it  is  destitute  of  courage.  It 
is,  indeed,  very  much  like  a cat,  being 
fond  of  slaying  animals  it  can  conquer, 
but  very  easily  frightened  by  man.  I 
will  tell  you  a story  which  will  show 
you  how  very  timid  the  tiger  some- 
times is. 

There  was  once  an  Englishman 
who  lived  in  India,  near  a broad  riv- 
er. Along  the  banks  of  this  river. 


UMBRELLA  AND  THE  TIGER.  137 

the  scenery  was  very  beautiful,  and  it 
was  common  for  the  people  to  walk 
there  for  pleasure.  The  Englishman 
had  a daughter  about  eight  years  old. 
One  day,  a cousin  of  hers,  who  lived  at 
a considerable  distance,  came  to  pay 
her  a visit. 

The  two  girls  were  nearly  of  the 
same  age,  and  they  were  very  happy 
in  each  other’s  company.  They 
played  and  chatted  some  time  together 
in  the  house  ; then  they  went  into  the 
garden,  where  they  picked  some  or- 
anges and  figs,  and  ate  them.  Finally, 
they  concluded  to  go  and  walk  on 
the  bank  of  the  river.  As  the  sun 
was  very  hot,  they  took  an  umbrella 


138  parley’s  story  of  the 

to  shelter  them ; a custom  very  com- 
mon and  necessary  in  India. 

Walking  side  by  side,  they  pro- 
ceeded to  the  bank  of  the  river ; and 
for  some  time,  they  walked  back  and 
forth,  greatly  delighted  with  the 
smooth  water,  and  the  beautiful  trees 
which  shaded  its  borders.  At  length, 
they  were  tired,  and  sat  down  to  rest 
themselves.  Reclined  on  the  grass, 
they  remained  for  a long  time  ; and 
then  they  began  to  gather  the  flowers 
around  them ; and  thus  they  amused 
themselves  for  more  than  an  hour. 

By  and  by,  one  of  them  heard  a 
noise  in  the  grass,  at  a little  distance. 
She  looked  around  ; but  at  first  she 


UMBRELLA  AND  THE  TIGER.  139 

could  see  nothing.  Pretty  soon,  she 
saw  the  grass  gently  laid  aside  ; and 
through  the  opening,  she  discovered 
the  large,  glaring  eyes  of  a tiger. 
The  animal  was  crouching  upon  the 
ground,  but  was  slowly  and  slyly  ap- 
proaching her  and  her  companion. 

The  little  girl  knew  that  the  animal 
would  spring  in  a moment,  and  that 
whatever  was  done  for  safety  must  be 
done  instantly.  The  umbrella  was  at 
her  side,  lying  upon  the  ground.  She 
took  it  up,  and  pointed  it  toward  the 
tiger.  He  was  now  very  close,  and 
she  opened  it  suddenly  in  his  face. 

Nothing  could  exceed  his  fright. 
He  started  aside  with  a violent  leap, 


140  THE  UMBRELLA  AND  THE  TIGER.  . 

plunged  into  the  long  grass,  and  dis- 
appeared from  the  place.  The  little 
girls,  thus  delivered  from  their  danger, 
ran  home  as  fast  as  they  could  to  tell 
the  story. 


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